


Red

by 1cupoftea



Category: Transistor (Video Game)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-26
Updated: 2015-05-19
Packaged: 2018-02-22 17:18:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2515586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1cupoftea/pseuds/1cupoftea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Like fire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Performance

**Author's Note:**

> A collection of drabbles exploring the intimacy between Red and her lover.

 

The first time he saw her perform, he didn’t hesitate to stare. He couldn’t help himself.  
  
Her name suited her - ‘Red’ like her hair. Red like her full lips. Red like fire, an enticing flame that never failed to captivate. A flame burning in the centre of the stage, a beacon wrapped in gold. Her passionate voice dispelled the gloom coating the audience outside of her ring of light. It seized the hearts of her patrons, a hidden snake of perplexity winding itself around them so that they were immobilised in a trance.  
  
Red was unique, of course. One of a kind. Her music spoke on an emotional level never reached before and her voice illuminated her lyrics in the dust-filled light of The Empty Set. She added something else to the city. Something that lit a flame in even the dullest of people, sparked a hidden emotion that took many by surprise. She managed to reach deeper, to arouse a profound, powerful feeling that swept them away. Her assertive nature led her to push the boundaries, to go beyond; she wasn’t afraid to try something new, to play with what would ruffle some feathers. It wasn’t a surprise that her music was enough to raise a few controversies.  
  
He wondered how she juggled this with her busy lifestyle and fame, and if she ever thought about the quiet power her music held.

 

He pocketed this thought into the depths of his mind to ponder over later. She was already making her way backstage against the roar of applause from the audience. Already, he had seen many of her shows and now he felt compelled to approach her. She was like a shadow, an enigma; bright on the spotlight but immediately disappearing when it was over. The media was persistent as she was a rising star, but she still managed to stave them away and the mysterious air surrounding her fit her nicely.

 

The outcome of his approach was better than he’d expected. At least he didn’t look as stupid as he felt he would, although when he opened the door to her dressing room - thankfully not when she was in the middle of undressing - his mouth had immediately dried up and his brain blanked. 

  
On the way home that night he almost walked into a streetlamp, slipped on a slick road tile, and had to apologise profoundly to a woman after tripping over her dog in a crowded walkway, which in his opinion, was way too small to even be considered a dog. But he couldn’t help himself. His mind was pouring through his thoughts like a hurricane.  
  
‘…Uh, hi.’ He’d said with a cotton mouth.

 

She’d given a small smile. It wasn’t unusual for an eager fan to catch her after one of her performances. They were usually flustered and blushing. He seemed more collected, but his sharp eyes caught her by surprise. Like he was on a mission. ‘..Hey,’ she’d replied, ‘are you looking for an autograph?’, before realising that he didn’t have anything with him. Her voice trailed off when she suddenly recognised him as one of her regulars. The man with the flashy triangle on his jacket. She caught him in the crowd every once and awhile, making his way out.

 

Somehow they managed to have a conversation, and somehow he managed to walk her home that night with the promise of seeing her again sometime, perhaps for a coffee or some food. And maybe even a walk in the park after that. They’d have to see how it went. She wasn’t one to rush into these sort of things.

 

 It was only on her way home that she had remembered that she didn’t know his name. She meant to ask the next time they met, she really did - but her question dissipated when they trailed off into conversation about anything and everything; favourite books, favourite movies, favourite place in Cloudbank. Thoughts on the current colour of the sky. He seemed nervous at first, awkward, but it slowly gave way to the hidden person deep inside him; one that was funny and witty and cold weave a good tale. This only developed as they saw each more, and they crafted a comfortable relationship that started as a friendship within the fringes of something more. His unusual nature did nothing but heighten her curiosity, and unwittingly her attraction to him as well. Although she wasn't entirely hesitant, she promised herself that she would let their relationship grow with time - they would just have to see where it led to.

  
It wasn't love at first sight. She’d smitten him, yes, but falling in love came slow, patient.

 

They spent as much time as they could together. He slotted himself in whenever he had the chance - a cancelled show due to overbooking, a few hours between work for some flatbread, a special event she had been invited to by Sybil. He also made sure to watch all her performances, sneaking out of backstage to his usual seat. They watched movies, visited the park, ate at cafes; anything and everything.

  
She would catch his eye with a wink and his throat would tighten. A hidden message; a secret look that only they shared. He could have sworn that she was smirking as she sang - and he couldn’t wait to wipe it off her face when they were alone.

 

Their relationship deepened over time. Strolls through the park turned into candle-lit dinners by the Goldwalk. A touch of the hand, a whisper, a laugh led them stumbling into her apartment at midnight. Sometimes she barely finished wiping off her makeup before he’d find her and kiss her neck slowly. She’d mumble a few excuses to Sybil on why she suddenly couldn’t stay longer to have lunch and they’d leave in a hurry, missing the look of shock on Ms Reisz’s face. It took a long time to develop this level of intimacy, as Red was very private in her affairs, which was duly respected by Boxer.

 

Eventually he spent more time at her apartment then anywhere else in Cloudbank. Neither of them were exceptional cooks and Junction Jan’s Sea Monster was a regular meal. He slowly grew accustomed to her lifestyle and tailored his routine to fit her busy schedule. Although she wasn’t a slob, she did have a habit of letting things slide once and a while, with clothes hanging off chairs and dirty dishes left around the kitchen. It was mainly due to her work, and she practically lived in their bedroom. He would help her when she was swamped with it and too busy to tidy, collecting empty coffee mugs and greasy cartons of Junction Jan’s. He swiped clean the kitchen and arranged the dishes back to their respectable place. He made the bed and remembered to give Luna her daily meal, picking up stray items of clothing strewn here and there. It always earned him a relieved sigh, a grateful smile and a plethora of kisses on his cheeks, nose, mouth.

  
When she grew stressful and paced down the hallway he would make her a calming cup of tea, complete with some biscuits or two and give her a reassuring peck on the cheek as he eased her into a chair. She always tried to turn away before he could see the faint blush on her cheeks and tease her about it, but he caught her chin and kissed her on the lips. She would laugh and swat him away before it could deepen, insisting that he was distracting her from working, although her face was coloured in the way of her namesake.  
  
He learned many of the little habits she did when he was alone like this with her. When she worked there was often held a pencil between her lips, a hum resonating from her chest. She sometimes chewing her lip when her pencil resided in her hand to note something down, and when she woke up she liked to stretch like a cat and kiss his nose before going to make some breakfast. Luna would be walked by either of them in the mornings, but in the evenings they were often too busy concentrating on each other to worry about that.  


He had to admit, she entranced him with practically everything she did. He gave her something other than Music to love, cherish. His subtle humour made her laugh louder than she thought she ever could. It was genuine and she couldn’t get enough of it, especially hearing his smooth, rich voice. He was not overbearing and crude, although admittedly a bit withdrawn, particularly at those extravagant social events Sybil liked to organise. He could handle some small talk here and there, but after a while she could tell that he would rather be anywhere else. But he excited her in a thrilling way that she was eager to explore. Even in public she didn’t hesitate to edge closer to him when they admired the sunset in the park, or link their arms when walking through crowded streets. He liked it when she did that. He liked being close to her, and he could tell that she did too by the way she looked up at him and kissed him deeply.

  
In the mornings he would usually wake up first. He would sigh and roll over and see her snuggled into her pillow on the other side of the bed. He would carefully run his hand through her messy hair and she would tuck herself closer to him. Sometimes he would kiss her all over her face and she would protest and roll away from him as he chuckled. He just couldn’t help himself.  
  
  


 


	2. Late

“Red….Red..the alarm.”

 

She gave a deep sigh as she swatted the alarm clock next to the bed, eyes still clenched shut as she curled under the blanket. Her back was to him as she slept sideways, his breath fanning the back of her neck. Sunlight cut through the window to illuminate the crinkled bed covers that she desperately hid under. 

 

“The gala is at 8….Sybil..she’s waiting…” he mumbled into the mattress and she had the urge to giggle.

 

“Not yet…a bit longer….” Blankets rustled as she adjusted her position and sighed in content. The newly arranged pillow sat atop her eyes as she rolled onto her back. The light would, hopefully, keep its distance this way. 

 

“We need to - need to get ready,’ he managed, sleep slowly draining from his voice as he made his way to sit up. The cover bunched onto his lap, a clean sheet of snow. But he quickly felt himself dozing off against the headboard, his words slurred with fatigue when he spoke. 

 

“Hey..hey Red, we should really be -“

 

The doorbell rang. A shrill scream that jolted the both of them awake. He blinked and sat up more, looking at her dumbly as she scrambled up to haphazardly drop the pillow on a startled Luna. 

 

She looked back at him, both frozen in shock. Another ring, followed by irritated knocking. 

 

Finally, a switch of realisation was flipped and they rushed to get ready in time. She kicked off the covers and hastily tried straightening her wild hair, pulling up the strap of her pyjama that slipped past her shoulder. He had already gotten up to rinse his face in the bathroom when she appeared from their bedroom wrapped in a robe. The knocking resounded again, this time louder and more forceful. “Red, the door!”

 

Sybil looked up to see Red swathed in a bathrobe, her hair dishevelled and slightly out of breath. 

 

“Oh, Sybil, it's you!” She sighed, letting out a deep sigh. 

 

“Red! Have you forgotten? The gala is at 8 o’clock sharp! I’ve been knocking for the past half hour!”

 

Red looked at her blankly.

 

“Its already 7:40 and you look like you’ve just woken up!”

 

Realisation hit her and her eyes widened. How could she ignore the alarm like that? “Oh, Sybil, I’m so sorry…we completely lost track of time….the alarm…it rang too late..”

 

 _We..? Ahh, yes…her newly acquired lover…_ Sybil peered over Red’s shoulder to see him towelling off his hair in the hallway, a toothbrush in his mouth. She sniffed and turned her attention back to the singer. He was probably coming along as well. As he always did, to every event that she was privately invited to. Sybil kept her tongue about it, though it irked her to no end. 

 

“You have to come….we can’t cancel again, and I’ve already told everyone that you would be there. Please, Red.”

 

Red chewed the inside of her mouth thoughtfully. All she would rather do at the moment was go back to bed, snuggle back into the warmth of the covers and escape back to the land of sleep…But Sybil was right, she couldn’t keep missing social events that she had spent hours organising, despite how much she would rather avoid them at times. 

 

She yawned into her hand. “Alright Sybil, just give us a few minutes..”

 

“Great!” Her face lit up, “Can’t wait to see you there! I’ll go now and meet you at the entrance at around 8. Please remember to hurry!” With one last glance at Red’s mysterious partner, now looping a tie around his neck in the hallway mirror, she briskly left, candy-striped umbrella in hand. 

 

Red closed the door to her apartment, fighting back a yawn. She walked back into the bedroom where she began rummaging through the wardrobe in search of something decent to wear. He followed her in, already dressed. She turned back around with a low-cut gold dress her hands, laying it out next to where he was sitting on the bed. 

 

She began to undress when she noticed his gaze still fixed on her, and turned around to smirk at him questionably. He matched it with a sly smile and she rolled her eyes.

 

“If you don’t get out we’ll never get to the gala in time, you know that.”

 

“That's’ fine with me.” He shrugged standing.

 

“You’ve unbelievable!” she exclaimed but couldn’t help smiling. 

 

He caught the pillow she threw at him and made his way out.

 

 “Alright, alright… you know I was joking…”


	3. Winter

Cloudbank in the snow was beautiful - neatly encased in white that hugged its every surface and walkway. Like someone had draped it with a blanket.

 

In some areas most affected by the weather, piles of snow caked alleyways and sidewalks and roofs, where it perched precariously in heaped domes; an annoyance to the streaming passerby but an evident delight to the children. 

 

The snow was tamer today than it had been for the last couple of days, behaving itself enough to provide less walking traffic for pedestrians. It fell lazily from the blotched sky - a deep combination of midnight blue adorned with a just a hint of clouds, so much so that it seemed like they blended into the sky itself. Yon-Dale had outdone herself today. 

 

Red was humming as she sashayed slowly to the office from the hallway, absentmindedly shifting through stray papers from the table, which included notes from her songwriting. Her voice was drowned partially by the clattering in the kitchen and the drifting sound of the music in the living room that she had put on. It was an old vinyl she had owned back when she was at Traverson Hall - a gift from a friend. 

 

Luna decided to spend her time gnawing at her tail on the mat outside the kitchen. She was banished from the living room for the time being after knocking over two glasses of wine, resulting in an ugly stain and a handful of shouts from her owners. 

 

Red drifted into the kitchen, continuously humming to announce her presence. He had his back to her, busy preparing them steaming mugs of tea. She watched him as she leant on the counter and observed silently. He was wearing the usual white shirt - untucked and sans coat. The wide shoulders, his back muscles, his neck. His _arms._

 

The light gave a warm glow to the apartment and somehow managed to make it seem smaller and cosier. It was just the three of them, and she suddenly felt content, a warm feeling sprouting in her stomach. The idea of curling up next to him with warm tea was enough to make this time of year bearable. It was a well-needed break from her busy lifestyle, and she was glad Sybil proposed it in the first place. She could be attending a lavish winter gala at the moment, but politely turned down the offer in favour of spending the time at home. 

 

She noticed that he finished and stood up to hug him from behind. Lips at the back of his neck left a trail to his ear and then down along his neck. He smiled. 

 

“Hey, Red. Your favourite, as always.” His was voice smooth and profound - something she loved; something she could spend all day listening to. He turned slightly to offer her the tea. 

 

“Mm.” She was preoccupied at the moment. The mug was lowered and she coaxed him to face her. 

 

“..uh..the tea..”

 

She led him backwards by the collar into the bedroom, lips hovering above his and he barely noticed when they flopped onto the bed. She breathed slowly onto his neck as her arms clasped his shoulders, eyes closed, cradling him close like she hadn’t seen him in centuries. It felt good to be held like this. 

 

A leg was hooked around his waist. She suddenly kissed him slowly, carefully - as if savouring something sweet. He didn’t hesitate to return it, and after a couple of minutes she opened her eyes again, both of them breathless. This time she gave him a smile and a slight laugh - her lipstick was smeared across his mouth. 

 

“Sorry about that, I got a bit carried away..”

 

He chuckled, his voice light and teasing. “Not the first time, Red. Seems like you can’t get enough of me.” Her neck was nuzzled.

 

She swatted him playfully. “Oh, shut up already - I didn’t hear you complaining!” He laughed again and rolled off. She sat up to see him make his way out. “Hey, where are you going?” 

 

“The kitchen, Red, the tea will get cold.” She heard him coo at Luna in the hallway before the door opened to the kitchen, and sighed, flopping back onto the bed. 

 

“Ok, but hurry up - it's cold in here.” She turned to her side to settle into the pillow and tucked her knees closer to her chest. They were starting to get comfortable and he was focused on the tea. _Unbelievable._

 

He was rummaging through the cupboards. She knew that he loved a dash of sugar with his. To her amusement, and at times annoyance, he almost always forgot where it was. 

 

“Red, have you seen the-“

 

“At the top, to the right.” She called, a little impatiently. All she wanted was to wrap herself around him and he was preoccupied with the sweetness of his drink. The damn _tea._ A drawer opening, more clinking and then the switch of a light. _Finally_.

 

He came in two seconds later and kissed her across the bed before carefully putting down the mugs on the bedside table. She immediately wound her arms around his neck to pull him towards her, kissing him furiously. He broke off when she started unbuttoning his shirt, glancing at the steaming mugs next to the bed. 

 

“ _Leave it.”_

 

 


	4. Beach

He watched her, as she bobbed and dipped into the waves like she was dancing. The ocean was a rich array of blues, from turquoise to cobalt blended together like paint. It flared like a jewel when touched by the suns rays and her ruby hair 

 

Her eyes were closed, a small smile on her lips. He could tell she was humming to herself - lost in her own world of music, that was Red. That brilliant shock of hair appeared here and there as the waves rolled lazily onto the sand, catching his eye like a flame. The water would drag itself back in a hiss and then repeat. 

 

 Sighing, he sank into the beach chair, thankful for the parasol that coated him in the shade. From the look on her face, the water must be nice - satisfyingly cool; relaxing. He allowed himself to drift off and closed his eyes. This was a good break. A well-deserved break for the both of them. Unfortunately, Sybil couldn’t get off their backs with suggestions of different outings and events they could go to. Red proposed a much more clandestine option that he was thankful for, hinting her desire of being by themselves that Sybil was not entirely happy with by the look on her face. But she accepted wordlessly so he couldn’t care less. 

 

The beach was a one of a handful of locations that wasn’t teeming with people, a private getaway that only they seemed to know about. It was perfect for many reasons, the most obvious being her elated status that would definitely draw unwanted attention. 

 

The next time he opened his eyes he was met with the sight of her walking up the sand in his direction. The sun scrutinised the area from its place in the sky, pouring its rays onto the sand and leaving a cut-out of her silhouette in front of her. Red was a beautiful woman. 

 

The wind toyed with a few strands across her face and he caught himself staring at her lips. They were parted as she was panting softly, her chest rising and falling. The stripes of her swimsuit gleamed and threw back the sunlight to his eyes, demanding his attention. It was specially made - an exclusive gift, designed to match the gold theme that fit her so well. His heart jumped when he glanced at her eyes to see them fixed on him. _Those eyes_ \- like encased parts of the sky. 

 

He sat up a bit in the chair as she made her way to him and kissed him soundly. He suddenly noticed how long her legs were. Her hair - only partially wet - was unkept and battered by the wind, but it made her look beautiful nonetheless. 

 

She moved away to settle herself into the beach chair next to his, attempting to flatten the wild strands with one hand as she brushed sand off of her towel with the other. 

 

“Refreshing, isn’t it? The water.” he remarked. She was laying on her back with her arms above her head, still combing through that ruby hair. But she had a content look on her face.

 

“Hmmm.” She hummed in agreement, eyes closed. 

 

He smiled. “You look so tranquil, Red. It's been a while.” 

 

She nodded vigorously, stretching out like a cat and rolling onto her front. Her arms were folded to rest her head onto and she turned her head to face his direction. It had been hectic with her recently acquired popularity, and it was even more so with the buzz over her the mysterious boyfriend. She needed to get away from the spotlight for a bit and recollect herself; leave songwriting for a while and clear her head. Having him with her was surprisingly comforting and made the whole thing bearable. 

 

“Maybe we could go swimming again later.” He looked to her for a reply but realised she had dozed off.

 

“You had your chance.” He was taken back by her sleepy yet teasing reply. She _smirked_ slightly to herself and he was suddenly determined to wipe it off her face. “Guess you’ll have to wait..” Red was on her back again, stretching her arms above her head. He stood quickly.

 

She looked up confusedly when he didn’t say anything. “Hey, what are you-“ He scooped her up in his arms before she could continue and started towards the sea.

 

“Why don’t we go now? Come on, while it's still bright.” She wrestled violently against him so he made sure to stroke her sides and legs - wherever she was most ticklish. This caused her to shriek and laugh and thrash at him to stop, making her breathless when she spoke.

 

“No, no, put me down- seriously, I just-!” The splash cut her off and she found herself submerged. 

 

He opened his mouth to laugh when it was suddenly filled with seawater after he was unexpectedly jerked forward. She pulled him in after he tossed her. She hadn’t let go of his arms and now he found himself spluttering and coughing and thoroughly drenched.

 

“Red! I don’t like getting wet!” 

 

But she was laughing too hard to reply and he felt himself start to smile. She was going to pay for that. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The swimsuit Red is wearing is based off this post on tumblr - www.ellie-goldshire.tumblr.com/post/88291898504  
> (It is not mine)


	5. Argument

She stormed into the bedroom in tears, collapsing on the bed to grasp at the pillow.

She shuddered as she sobbed into it. An awful noise that struck him at the core. 

“Red, please..” He tried patiently, following her in.

“No.” She inhaled sharply, wiping her eyes. “No.”

The bed dipped slightly as he sat on it. “At least think about it. Come on-“

“I have.” She snapped, a bit too sharply, causing him to seal his mouth shut abruptly. “And I’m telling you, no.” 

Red lifted her head to glare at him and he bore into her gaze - sharp and sapphire and glossy with tears. He let out a measured sigh.

“Why?” he said after a pause, “Did you even consider the consequences? Red, don’t you understand what could happen?” His voice escalated slowly and he felt his anger seethe. She wasn’t being rational. “People disappearing all over the place - something isn’t right!

“Yes, I know exactly what I’m doing! Do you have any idea how hard it is for me?” She lashed back with equal ferocity and he almost flinched. “I want to finally push myself and perform to more than just the regulars at the stage. This is so important to me and you’re ruining it. Why can’t you just leave my decisions to myself? Nothing is going to happen - nothing - because you’re so wrapped up in this whole thing you can barely think straight!”

She breathed heavily and he felt too stricken to reply when suddenly she pushed the pillow away. 

“We’ve discussed this before anyway! Why are we even-“ She broke off with an irritated huff and rolled off the bed. “This is pointless. You never even consider what I feel.” He was going to say something when he heard the door slam as she left the room. 

Boxer sighed to himself as he collapsed onto the bed, feeling as if something was eating him from inside. Red - typically stubbon. Whenever they fought, they were usually minor scuffles and it was never this intense. No yelling, no crying. But he could tell he struck a nerve this time. It started with a light conversation about her upcoming performances and within two minutes it had escalated into a full-blown argument. They didn’t see eye to eye in some things, especially the suspicious cases of missing people, famous people, that didn’t seem to add up. He had dropped it in, in a few conversations here and there but it was always brushed off casually. 

He tried suggesting smaller venues, particularly those tucked in the secluded corners of Cloudbank where the elite rarely strayed. If she grew in fame who knows whether something would happen to her. Red responded at first with a joke of hiring him as her organiser instead of Sybil, and then confusion when he didn’t respond equally. Was he trying to downplay her ability? Did he think that she wasn’t ‘good’ enough to greet the spotlight every now and then? What was he so anxious about?

The subject remained closed with occasional small outbursts that were quickly quelled, adding to his anxiety. It all suddenly flooded out when she confronted him about the prospect of performing at an outdoor venue at some big event that was going to hold over a thousand people. At a park, one of the largest in Cloudbank, with gourmet food and decorations and all the right people. As suspected Sybil was the one who organised it, and he couldn’t bear to crush her excitement. It was so new to her, refreshing - something she had never tried before.

He pretended to be happy for her. A stupid thing to do, he now acknowledged, but at the time he wasn’t thinking straight. She unfortunately caught on with his lack of enthusiasm and then accused him of being paranoid and obsessed when he explained himself. It ended in a brief yet bitter spat and she focused her attention to preparing for the event. He had urged her to reconsider and decline. She refused.

A couple of days later she caught him with the invitation letter in his hand, the one she would respond her attendance to, hovering over the kitchen bin as if pausing in consideration. She had spent the last hour trying to locate it after it mysteriously vanished from her desk and was furious to find him with it. 

Now he was sprawled on their bed searching his brain for a way to apologise. But he found his thoughts muddled. Maybe she was right - he should relax and forget about it, maybe even have more faith in the authorities to handle the situation. The disappearances could be unlinked after all, and the media probably fed the ambiguity to keep the hype. As he reflected on his actions he realised what a stupid, irrational thing he did. He practically invaded her privacy all because of rumours and speculations that may or may not be true, and even worse, behaved too rashly to consider the affects. Not to mention it was none of his business. Her career was very important, very personal to her - not just some job she did to earn a living. 

He yawned. The bed looked orange from the sunset peeking through the window and suddenly his eyes felt heavy. 

\--

He woke up suddenly to see the room coated in darkness and the moon casting its light on the bed sheets. He identified Red’s sleeping figure beside him with her back to him. She had changed into her nightclothes - he must have been asleep for a while. He got up to change as quietly as he could and then slipped back next to her. Red stirred when she felt him embrace her stiffly from behind and shifted to face him. 

“The party…,” she croaked slightly, “I talked to Sybil. I can still go, it’s not too late.” The enveloped had been crumpled unintentionally during their argument when he had briefly forgotten he was still holding it. It required her to RSVP at a certain deadline because of necessary arrangements and preparations to be made beforehand.

There was an awkward silence as he nodded. “Oh…thats good.” He shifted slightly. “Um..Red, I’m so sorry. I know I shouldn’t have..This means so much to you - I-I was stupid.” He cut himself off before he started to stammer but it felt unfinished and he wanted to say more. Guilt and worry fizzed inside of him.

She replied by hugging him closer and settling onto his chest. Her eyes were closed as she leaned onto him. He could tell they were both tired, and that she had accepted - at least partially - his apology, so he tried to clear his head and drifted off without a word. It was clearly a touchy subject. 

He hoped they never argued like this again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, not a happy one. Thank you for anyone who left a kudos - it means a lot !  
> Please don't hesitate to leave advice or constructive criticism - writing is relatively new to me and I aim to improve (as well as go back through previous chapters to work on them).


	6. Coffee

She giggled into the pillow, rustling the blankets as she scrunched them to her face to muffle her laughter.

 

He sighed through his nose and his closed eyes twitched. It was cool yet windy outside and they opted to open the long window above the bed to let the breeze in. Unfortunately this also caused the curtains to step aside and let in the sunlight to jab at his eyes. Not convenient when you’re trying to sleep after a long shift at work.

 

“Hmm? Whats so funny?” His voice cracked at the edges with fatigue. He caught a glimpse of her, in a casual white dress laying face down to his right.

 

She gulped down any stray laughter and shuffling closer to him, leaning her head on his shoulder and draping her arm around him. “You. Sleeping at midday, drinking at least five cups of black coffee this morning…I swear, I saw you!” She struggled to conceal her smile, letting out a chuckle. “You’re like an old man."

 

His eyes flashed open. “5pm is not midday. And it was two cups - cappuccino not black.”

 

“Same thing, grandpa.” She stretched herself languidly, her voice dissolving into giggles.

 

Red jerked slightly as he grasped her waist and she watched in surprise as he smirked slowly. “And who are you calling old?” His voice picked up, sparking awake. She suddenly shrieked as he attacked her sides and found herself struggling to get away, feeling him latch her closer just to annoy her.

 

“W-well, you’re older t-than me!” She exclaimed breathlessly as she writhed on the bed, peeling with laughter.

 

“Not by that much!” And he smiled at her, alight with energy. She admitted defeat shortly afterwards and they lay side by side panting. Her face was flushed and her hair in a disarray, the white dress rumpled along her knees.

 

She looked back at him and swatted him on the arm. “Never do that again.” After sitting up and smoothing out her clothes she stood to go to the kitchen, finding herself in a sudden slump in energy.

 

He smiled again, in a playful mood, and reached to grasp her thigh. “Hey-“

 

Red whirled around in disbelief. “ _Boxer_ \- I’m going to make coffee!” He got up and in a fluid motion pulled her towards him by her waist. “Let me join you then.” His voice took on a light, teasing tone - he was in a playful mood.

 

She grabbed his arms to push him away. “No, no - you stay here. Don’t-“

 

“Why not? You said yourself how much I love coffee.”

 

“You’re going to _distract_ me.”

 

“No I’m not.”

 

“Yes you are, you _always_ do - half of the time it doesn’t turn out right when you’re around.”

 

“This time I won’t. Promise.”

 

“Pfft, yeah right.”

 

“I won’t! I’ll prove it to you, come on.” He leaned in as he talked to brush against her neck and elicited a giggle. To her chagrin he knew all her most ticklish areas.

 

“Fine, _fine_ , but you have to promise to stop doing that.” She said and managed to ease herself out of his hold. She turned to make her way into the kitchen, whispering under her breath. “God, you always make me sound like a love-struck teen…”

  
He sauntered after her. “What was that?”  
  
  


“ _Nothing_ , just get over here and help.” She turned away from him but he still caught the blush on her cheeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this one is quite short and rushed, I might revisit it later...


	7. Chocolate

“Hmmm…my favourite…”

She closed her eyes to keep the flavour on her tongue and then sighed before another brown square slipped into her mouth. “Don’t you just love it? It's the best chocolate in Cloudbank. Expensive, too, but definitely worth it.”

   
A whirl of smoke twisted itself into the air from behind her and she grimaced while swallowing the next piece.

He pocketed his partially devoured chocolate and with the other hand steadied himself on the handrail as the bus swung into a turn. “You shouldn’t be eating on public transport.”

Her eyes shot like knives to the bulk of a man behind her and she muttered, “He shouldn’t be smoking.”

Boxer nudged himself closer as a sudden swarm of people flooded the areas around them and they found themselves squeezed between strangers, sharing breaths and shuffling in awkward proximity. The bus seemed to glide through the streets but at the same time rattled and creaked like it was going to fall apart. The chairs sagged tiredly in old-fashioned wear and he noticed the grime on the poles and handrails. The floor faded and dirty, littered with cigarette butts and blackened gum in the corners; the stained windows and faded signs. Must have been an old model - a _very_ old model. The Administration would eventually take care of it.

Then again, that part of the city was not really focused on - by the public or the Administration itself. Although Cloudbank was a prosperous city, there were still those who slipped through the cracks and ended up in the old side of town with no work or Selection to turn to.Niola Chein brought these issues into attention with openings and events arranged in the Goldwalk Channel and they continued to create a stir until her untimely disappearance.

It was at Red’s insistence to take the bus home, despite how she avoided it at times because of unwanted publicity. After a long day out she somehow convinced him to stop and buy some of her favourite chocolate even though she was as willing as he was to get out of the crisp winter air.

She clutched her chocolate protectively to her chest as one of her arms hung loosely around his neck to grasp his collar. The bus lurched itself around as it stopped to accept a handful of people and a burst of chilled breeze. Buildings started to liven and stand straighter as it slowly made its way out of the underdeveloped areas, which ranged from almost slum-like conditions to the poorly built, older buildings abandoned instead of renovated. Although they weren’t big these regions still crippled the image and pride of Cloudbank’s success and their shadows still leaked into the more built-up regions. The bus was an example. 

“Two more stops.” She said, focused back on her chocolate. The foil crinkled slightly as she peeled some off to welcome more of the body into sight. He watched as she carefully broke off another square to avoid smudging her lipstick and it quickly disappeared between her lips. The same satisfied sigh, a content smile. 

She looked elegant in a brown coat and boots, tailored specifically to her design. Another gift by that famous fashion designer who’s name always slipped his mind. It was something like a ‘thank you’ gift for her attendance at one of his annual fashion shows where she agreed to contribute with her own kind of entertainment. It fit her snugly and contained a similar ring of feathers as her gold dress, including an identical triangle at the front. It must have been a signature symbol of hers.

 

* * *

 

 

When they finally arrived at her apartment he didn’t hesitate to tear off his jacket and sink into the plump mattress of their bed. She laughed slightly as he sighed and seemed to deflate himself like a balloon. She was rustling around somewhere at the foot of the bed, most likely taking off her outerwear and keys, and he heard Luna’s tail thump methodically in excitement.  
  


“Where’s your chocolate? Is it still in the jacket?”

 

He cracked an eye open and turned to her direction, the light already proving itself an invasive entity. Red was squatting to give Luna her attention and he eyed his jacket on the hook above her.   
  
“You’re not planning on eating it, are you?”  
  


She straightened and twisted herself to look at him, chocolate in hand. “Why not, are you?”

   
Before he could reply she rushed to spring herself onto the bed and hovered above him with hands planted on either side of his shoulders to kiss his cheek. “Its _way_ past your bedtime though, _six o’clock -_ maybe you really shouldn’t be eating sweets at this hour.”   
  


She laughed down at him as he buried his face under the pillow, but she could tell he was smiling with her. She teased him relentlessly about his occasional early bedtimes even though he explained it in his overtime at work and the longer hours he was clocking in for.

   
Red rolled herself to the side and plopped next to him with newfound energy. She brought up a hand to smooth away the wrinkles in his shirt on his back and weave her fingers in his hair. 

   
“Hey. You didn’t even take your shoes off.”

   
“Hm.”

   
The sheets rustled as she turned to roll off the bed. “ _Old man,”,_ she whispered quickly to tease him and he heard the smirk in her voice, knowing what was in store for her. But she didn’t escape fast enough and he turned around quickly to grab her waist and drag her close to him. “No, no, don’t!”, she cried breathlessly in laughter.

   
“You can’t just leave me here alone…..old and frail…” His voice rooted itself onto the back of her neck.  
  


She squirmed in his arms struggling to keep a straight face. “Oh, _stop_ it, Boxer.”  
  


“But what if I….fall off the bed, or, suffer a stroke or _worse_ -“   
 

“Ok, ok, _quit_ it! I promise I’ll leave you alone!” He stopped tickling her with roaming hands and she tried to lurch out of his grasp. “Come on, please, I _really_ want that chocolate….and a warm bath.”  
  


He seemed to think that over and didn’t loosen his hold on her despite how hard she gripped his arms. “Hmmmm, I’m not sure that's a very good answer….  
  


“ _Boxer.”  
_  

“Wouldn’t you be cold like that?” He looked pointedly at her thin jumper and tights.

 

“Yes, thats why I’m taking a _bath.”_

 

_“_ I don’t know..this duvet seems to hit the spot just fine..”

 

She sighed sharply and turned to face him. “Oh come on, I was only teasing…”

 

“So am I.”  
  


“You’re only….500 years old, I mean, I’ve dated older.” Her voice cracked into a laugh before she shrieked when he attacked her sides.

   
“Alright I’m sorry! Ok, ok, _stop!”_ Red laughed breathlessly as he propped his head up on his arm to look down at her, smiling to himself. 

   
“I think I needed that, I feel more awake.” He planted a kiss on her shoulder.  
 

She rolled her eyes at him. “You’re welcome.”  
  


“Aren’t you going to take a bath?”

 

“Actually, I don’t really feel like I need it anymore, thanks to _someone._ ”

 

He gave her a knowing smile before standing up off the bed. She held back a laugh at the sight of his lop-sided collar. “I guess I’ll go eat that chocolate then.”

 

Her head snapped up and she shuffled to sit up. “Oh no, thats mine.”

 

He strode into the hallway and soon stood confusedly searching his jacket. It was limp and damp and more importantly, the pockets were empty. “Where did you even put it?”

 

But Boxer looked at her when she didn’t reply to see her already breaking off sizeable pieces, hurriedly consuming one by one so he wouldn’t see her, and he couldn’t help but chuckle.

 

“ _Red-“_

 

“Hm?”

 

“ _Slow_ down - ‘savour the taste’, or whatever you keep saying.”

 

She gave him a look and continued eating, with significantly less fervour. He ran a hand down his face in fatigue and walked over to bite a chunk from the bar and she didn’t resist.

 

“Hm. Its good.” He took off his shoes and belt and crawled under the duvet.

 

“Did’t I tell you?” She began wrapping it back in its foil and stood to put it in the kitchen. “Let’s keep some for tomorrow.” The light in the hallway was flicked off to his relief and soon she settled under the thick covers next to him, exhaustion already tugging at her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Thank you for the kudos)


	8. Fever

 

Red stifled another cough as she reached over to turn off the droning radio on the bedside table. One of Mr. Tennegan’s announcements was bubbling through it but she couldn’t divide her attention to listen. Her skin was flushed and feverish and she cherished the cool sheets of the bed. But it was a mess, the sheets rumpled in heaps and the pillows flattened where she had tossed and turned relentlessly. She couldn’t help it though. It was a pain to have a heavy head and parched throat that managed to keep her awake day and night. She couldn’t even sing, which meant that most of the days were slow and boring until Boxer got home. Her only options were watching TV or listening to music (reading required too much thought and energy). These activities were proven to be only short-term relief and eventually boredom crept in here and there. Time did not apply to her anymore as any forms of a regular sleep pattern were nonexistent, but she guessed it was nearing the evening from the way the sun coloured the room. The sunlight had begun to wane and it painted the walls in a waxy orange, lining shadows all over the room, which she was thankful for as it numbed her eyes to encourage sleep. She suddenly realised with disdain, amongst the mountainous body of the duvet, that the television in the living room was still on. The residue of the sound of the news trickled into her ears where it was unwelcome so she forced her heavy body out of the bed to turn it off. 

 

When she completed the arduous journey back to the soft peaks of the duvet, she could already feel the sweat coating her body, yet she felt strangely cool at the same time. Like her body was radiating heat but the room was disagreeing with the temperature. She could also feel the air running out of her lungs and decided with frustration to take a bath already and stop moping around.

 

When she entered the bathroom it seemed more cold and surgical than before, and she slowly sunk herself into the lukewarm water with relief when she felt it was at the right temperature. Her brain seemed to run past the entire process of preparing a bath and in its state she struggled to grasp onto simple memories. Everything was waffly and unclear. Where had she put her clothes? She eyed them at the sink and then tried to shut down any train of thought. Her mind wandered  anything in her sight - which was pretty much everything - and she realised in annoyance that she had been squinting. The wretched light threw itself in her face and she abandoned the idea to get up and turn _that_ off as well. She sunk herself lower in the tub in a childish attempt to avoid it and convey her frustration. Everything seemed to be against her today - all the sounds too loud, the light too strong, the tastes too bland. But when she closed her eyes and leaned her head back none of this seemed to matter anymore. The bathwater seemed to melt away at her and soften her senses. The agitation and aches and cluttered thoughts from her mind were swept into the silence of the room. She stretched as best as she could (as she still felt mechanically stiff) and it released some tension. The languid fumes of lavender bled into the air from a collection of candles lining the edge of the tub. Red couldn’t recall when she had lit them, or when she had swirled scented bath soap into the water, but her mind was so hazy that she didn’t need to think about it…not now, not now...

 

She awoke suddenly as if from a stupor, and her brain slowly edged awake like a rebooting computer. Her eyes swept the surroundings and she sighed. Ah, she was in the bath - a very relaxing bath - that had now cooled considerably. Her body was clouded with tiredness and she felt a sudden laziness take hold of her when she stood up. Although, there was a new freshness in her muscles and sharpness to her senses and the fever had seemed to subside for now, welcoming the idea of sleep. A thought opened in her blank mind about the inviting softness of the bed, so she dressed herself as best as she could in the nearest thing she could find -which happened to be (apart from her underwear) a baggy shirt that probably belonged to Boxer. She left the light on as she stumbled out of the bathroom and collapsed onto the bed. At the moment that she swamped herself with covers and pillows, the slam of a door interrupted her soft daze and she squinted (again) when the light was flicked on; her mortal enemy of the day. Boxer was home, shrugging off his jacket, taking off his shoes, putting away the keys. 

 

He gave a short breathless laugh when he saw her, something like a bark, as he started taking off his tie. She must’ve looked funny in the sea of white, tied up like a cocoon, with untamed scarlet curls of hair and a somber blue t-shirt. Probably in a strange position too - yet to her, comfortable. Not to mention the small frown on her face at the invading light; it was only small because that’s all she had the energy to muster. He leaned to kiss her on the forehead while unbuttoning his shirt. “Hey. How was your day?"

 

She shot him a look as he straightened to take off the shirt and ditched it on the chair where it slouched lifelessly. He chuckled at her expression and eased himself onto the bed, his pants and belt still on, and pressed himself against her. “You’re definitely better than yesterday.” He caressed her stomach under the shirt with his supple hands which caused her to shiver, either from the sudden cold or the fleeting contact of skin. His lips focused on the back of her neck and she almost slapped one of his hands away when it strayed higher to her ribs. 

 

“I had a bath. Just now, before you got home.” She informed him in a voice as delicate as silk, yet tinged with a raspy quality, a mixture of her fatigue and the coarseness of her throat. It still made him flood with affection and he wanted to gather her up in his arms and kiss her endlessly. But he steadied his giddy heart, as she was exhausted, deserved rest, and wouldn’t want to deal with an attack of kisses all over her face at this time.

 

“Oh, that’s why you smell so good.” And he made a show of it by burying his face in her hair and taking  a deep inhale, to which she laughed surprisingly and squirmed. He pressed some kisses onto her shoulder and collarbone and then laid his head back on the pillow. Their bodies relaxed against each other and they eventually drifted off together, just as a breeze willed itself into the room from the open window. 

 

\---

 

The next morning he was awoken with the tangy smell of bacon and the rich aroma of coffee. There was some kind of sizzling in the background and the emptiness of the bed initiated him to investigate. He managed to stumble his way into the kitchen where Red was humming to herself, crinkling strips of bacon in the pan in front of her, and a fresh pot of coffee on the table. She seemed to be more energised and some of her liveliness had seeped back from the clutches of the sickness, as she hummed vividly and swayed from side to side occasionally. He noted with amusement at the disarray of her hair, and didn’t forget to admire her lithe frame draped in that oversized shirt when he placed a hand gently on her waist. “Good morning."

 

 


	9. Lazy Morning

 

 

His fingertips trailed down the curve of her back, returning to caress her stomach with the backs of his fingers. She squirmed so he continued up to her neck, stroking the small hairs at the back of it. She let out an amused breath of air and stretched from her position laying sideways to him. Just like a cat - lean and affectionate. He encased her with his arms when she sighed back into them, rolling herself onto his body. She had a lithe figure and it amused him how small she actually was against his own wide frame - he could easily wind his arm loosely around her shoulders, or fix them languidly on her waist. He could pick her up just as easily too. This time he was doing both - one arm on her waist, the other at the shoulders. No area can be missed. Not now when she was so soft. She deflated against him and laid her head on the area of mattress right above his shoulder, messy twirls of hair against his cheek. He continued to fondly skim his hands on her skin, circling lazily with delicate touches on her shoulder, her waist, her back; or smoothing his hands down her body, lightly dragging nails and palms up the planes of her back.

 

She shifted again suddenly to squirm off of him, which would have been made easier if the sheets were not so tangled around their legs. “Hm.” She said. "You’re not actually that comfortable.” He let out that laugh that she loved - it was like a sharp, breathless bark that curled around the edges. She scooted up to his side. 

 

“Sorry to disappoint.” He grinned but was not pleased with the loss of contact so he sat up slightly to catch her by the waist and pull her to him, closer. He flopped back on the bed, making it shake, and she gave her own variant of a giggle and a smile. 

 

This blissful state came often. Soft mornings. Lazy days with nothing to do. After making love. It was a time when they could forget completely about anything else, a hazy, calm fog. 

 

Red sat up and twisted to face him, leaning down and giving him a kiss right behind the ear. She worked down his neck, hands holding a delicate grasp on his cheek and arm. She stopped at his shoulder, murmuring into his skin, and the trickle of her voice made his heart quicken somehow. “Be right back."

 

She turned and leapt out of the bed with grace and he looked up from the pillow to see her putting on her shirt as she walked out of the door. It was an old one, yet the bright yellow did not fade. It had some kind of symbol of a brand on the back. He shuffled around before finding his own, crumpled and neglected, but decided not to put anything over his boxers. He stretched and sat up on the edge of the bed, running a hand through his hair. They should probably get up for breakfast. The light from the bathroom was turned off and Red strode back into the room to collapse onto the bed next to him. She rolled over to face him and tapped the space beside her. He smiled. “We ought to get up.” She frowned at that and he leaned down into her neck. “Don’t you want to eat? Pancakes? With that syrup you really like?"

 

She groaned in protest but ultimately was taken with the offer, yet opted to hook her arms around his waist and nudge him closer. He laughed and adjusted himself to lay down again, hooking their legs together as he positioned himself on top of her. She giggled into his neck when he focused his lips on collarbone. “Aren’t you going to make the pancakes?"

 

He mumbled his reply between kisses. “I was hoping you were going to do that.” Red laughed at this, curling her fingers in his hair before tracing them down his neck and smoothing them over his wide back. "Well how can I when you're practically all over me?" She mimicked his actions from before, dragging her nails lightly over solid muscle, palming his shoulders, while he continued caressing her neck. She immediately regretted the fact that he had put on his shirt, and she urged to feel his skin, but nevertheless she loved to feel him. 

 

“5 more minutes?” He grumbled as he slipped his hands onto her ribs.  

 

“5 more minutes.” She smiled into his neck to press a kiss there. 

 


End file.
